


Going For a Test Flight

by FeatheredMask



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Not Beta Read, Wingfic, Wings, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22299067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatheredMask/pseuds/FeatheredMask
Summary: Chat Noir goes out on a lovely night to practice flying.Oneshot.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 54





	Going For a Test Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Quick flash fiction. Something happy and fluffy for our cinnamon roll. I love wings!AUs and decided to give Chat Noir a pair.

Chat Noir looked out, green eyes wide behind his mask. From all the way up on his perch way up on the Eiffel Tower, as close to the heavens as the city reached, so many of the lights down below were glowing pinpricks. The Tower’s metal structure shined with lights all the way to the top, but he cast his eyes over the painting splayed out below him, long strokes of yellow paint laying out the streets below. 

The city of lights was beautiful on a night like this. He could see the Arc de Triomphe from his perch. 

It was also a night where much of Paris was tucked safely inside their homes, nobody paying attention to the black-splotch hero out in the cold outside.

The apprehension made him shiver. His hand fiddled with the bell at his neck, metal ball sliding lazily inside, before grabbing it still. 

Chat Noir pulled the bell down the line of his suit, the zipper coming undone to let him peel his suit down off his arms and torso, taking away some of the night camouflage his suit afforded him. He sighed and rolled his shoulders out, relaxing his back. 

Plagg had mentioned he could alter the suit for his needs, but Adrien needed this kind of reveal to himself. Chat Noir needed this test drive before making the eventual, inevitable dive.

He wrapped the top half of his suit around his waist, tying the arms together. Wings stretched out behind him, dark as the starless night above him, feathers rippling as they were finally free of restraint. 

Chat Noir breathed deep, shivering in the night’s chill, and crouched. Now was the time to put these things to the test.

He pounced. 

Breath caught and adrenaline shot.

Air rushed past. 

Chat Noir’s wings beat unsteadily, and worry started to rise as he realised he was getting closer to the hard ground. If these things didn’t start working soon, he was going to end up a pancake.

He flapped his wings desperately, wondering how birds made this look so easy, careening lower and lower. After a disastrous flap that nearly flipped him over, Chat Noir tumbled onto the ground in a heap of limbs and feathers and a face planted in the asphalt. Maybe cats weren’t meant to fly. 

Chat Noir got to his feet and shook out his wings, brushing dirt off his arms -- and sneezed.

The second time he tried to fly, he started from right there on the ground, running as he flapped his wings, repeatedly thrown off balance by the gusts of wind each flap created. He struggled to right himself, running on all fours and trying not to buffet himself into rolling head over heels. His feet left the ground a few times, making his heart soar even if he didn’t. 

It took several exhausting minutes before he kept that height, and he gained height, wings raising him higher and higher into the night. For a moment, the world was a magical place. His wings no longer seemed like an annoying extra, no longer an abnormal sticking point. 

They had delivered him to this point in his life, where he could fly through the sky without a care, the freedom of the air and ability of flight letting him escape the parts of life that weighed him down. For a moment, he was weightless. 

Then a clumsy flap sent him tumbling to the ground. He was swiftly reunited with the very solid Earth. 

The setback didn’t stop him for long. Chat Noir raised his head off the ground, grit his teeth, and got to his feet to take another running start. Each try took him higher. He was getting closer to the point where it had all started, to where he had first felt that painful spurt of growth in his back, to where he always escaped to when he donned the mask of Chat Noir: the rooftops. 

This cat was learning to fly. 

\-----

When the pink of the sunrise began to light the tops of Paris, chasing away the deep oranges and yellows of the lights that lined streets at night, Chat Noir watched it from atop the Eiffel Tower, a little higher from where he had started the night. But this time, he hadn’t reached there by climbing up the sides. He had flown to the top. 

Chat Noir’s hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and his skin felt dry and chapped, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, nor the feeling of joy and accomplishment swelling inside him.

His wings felt heavy, straining his back. He was definitely going to feel that later. But right then, he just felt satisfied and a little tired now as everything was winding down. Soft pink streaks of clouds lined the horizon. He just wanted to sleep and dream of clear skies. 

A few 5 AM risers and up-late citizens had spotted him flying over Paris already, but Chat Noir still spent a few minutes folding up his wings and shoving them back inside his suit.

Those of Paris commuting to work were treated to glimpses of one of the city’s heroes jumping and leaping from roof to roof against the peeking sunrise, the bang of his baton on roofs rudely awakening those who slept on top floors.

Chat Noir slipped in through the open window of his bedroom, and yawned as Plagg released the transformation. White wings slid down from under his shirt, hanging low against the back of his pyjama pants. They strained against the material of his shirt. Adrien was too tired to fold them closed after the long night. 

Adrien took a few steps forward before falling face-first onto the bed, not caring as his wings worked to ride his shirt up to his neck. White wings askew, he was out like a light, turned off after a night of burning bright. 

Plagg fought with the blankets for a while before giving up, throwing a pillow Adrien’s way instead. 

When he slept in that morning, Natalie made a note in her agenda about his allergy medication causing drowsiness. 

\-----

_FIN_


End file.
